


Ponds, puppies and paternal worries

by Elesianne



Series: Fëanorian marriages [6]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Brothers, Children, Domestic Fluff, Family, Gen, Parenthood, Some Humor, Years of the Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-07 11:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10359705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elesianne/pseuds/Elesianne
Summary: Curufin tries his best as a father and Celegorm as an uncle but sometimes there are little blunders, such as treating a toddler like a baby animal.Second chapter posted on May 5th: Curufin's wife finds out about her son's adventures with uncle Celegorm.Though marked as part of my Fëanorian marriages series, this works as a standalone.





	1. Paternal worries

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted a write a story concentrating on Celebrimbor/Tyelperinquar's childhood, thus I am posting two stories today, on Curufin's day of [Fëanorian week](https://feanorianweek.tumblr.com/). This first story ended up being mostly about Curufin/Curufinwë and Celegorm/Tyelkormo still figuring out how to be a father and an uncle, respectively.
> 
> I marked this as part of my Fëanorian marriages series because Netyarë from that series is briefly mentioned as Tyelpë's mother, but this works perfectly well as a standalone story.
> 
> EDIT May 2nd // The wonderful RowanBaines did **a cute and funny comic inspired by this fic** , do check it out on [Tumblr](http://acommonanomaly.tumblr.com/post/160240073933/from-elesiannes-story-ponds-puppies-and)!

'I told you not to treat him like one of the puppies', Curufinwë hisses at his brother. He is livid but cannot shout because in addition to scolding Tyelkormo, he is also trying to calm down little Tyelperinquar who had upon his father's arrival burst into fresh tears.

Tyelkormo also looks slightly worried but makes a dismissive gesture and says, 'He was having a grand time playing with them until he got pushed into the pond. And how could I have known there were sharp rocks in the bottom of your garden pond?'

'You couldn't have known, but you should have stayed closer to him and rescued him when the playing got too rough, you idiot!' Curufinwë hugs his son close but that brings a fresh wail from the boy, so he hurriedly sits him on his knee and starts going through his small injuries, worried that one of them is worse than it looks.

'He's fine', says Tyelkormo. 'One of your buttons probably just scraped one of the cuts on his face when you embraced him. Really, you don't need to check him all over, I already did, and treated what needed to be treated.'

Curufinwë shoots a look of distrust at Tyelkormo but switches to finger-combing Tyelperinquar's dirty hair. 'Didn't give him a bath, though.'

'I didn't have time, you were gone for under an hour!'

'Clearly even that was too long. Shh, Tyelpë, my little one', Curufinwë coos gently, and Tyelkormo would smirk at that display of soft tenderness if he wasn't well aware that his own shortcomings as an uncle have made it necessary for his brother to behave so.

Tyelpë gulps back tears and calms down a little, but Curufinwë sniffs the air close to his son's face, a look of suspicion spreading on his own, then sniffs again. 'Did you treat his cuts with horse liniment?!'

'I might have', Tyelkormo says, a feeling of dread taking over him; he hadn't though there was anything wrong with his chosen course of treatment, but Curvo's reaction is making it sound like there was.

'He is a child, not a horse!' Curufinwë's ire makes him resort to hissing again. 'I know for a fact that there's liniment meant for people in my house as well.'

'I didn't know where that was kept, and it's basically the same stuff anyway, isn't it?' Tyelkormo defends himself. 'The horse liniment just isn't as nicely scented.'

'Certainly not.' Curufinwë grimaces. 'Oh Tyelpë dear, you're having such a long bath very soon.'

'I already had a bath', says the child who has stopped sobbing and wiped his nose on his father's doublet and is now studying the ornate buttons. 'In the pond.'

Both his father and uncle smile at that. 'A proper bath', Curufinwë clarifies. 'In the bathtub. And then nice-smelling ointment after.'

'He doesn't mind the smell', Tyelkormo says defensively because his brother is still giving him dirty looks.

Curufinwë digs a large jewel out of his pocket for Tyelperinquar to play with so that the boy won't tug the buttons off his doublet. 'You said that he was old enough now that you could look after him. But if I had known you were going to treat him like an animal, I would certainly not have left him with you!'

'Tyelpë is fine. You're only scolding me because you know your wife will scold you', snaps Tyelkormo back, his guilt for his nephew's hurt no longer keeping his temper in check. 'You need to think about how you treat him, brother.'

'What is that supposed to mean?' Curufinwë gives Tyelko the dirtiest look so far, though his fingers are still gently stroking his son's hair.

'If you didn't run off to see father every time he sends you a message about – about anything, any small matter, I don't know but I doubt it can be very important every time – you wouldn't have to leave your son with whoever happens to be nearby.' Tyelkormo shoots back a look just as vicious.

Curufinwë cover's Tyelperinquar's ears and asks in a voice dripping with ice, 'Are you saying that I'm a bad father?'

Tyelkormo backs down a little, mentally and physically, at the sight of the fury and misery in his brother's eyes. 'I'm hardly in a position to judge. But I think… there are times when you are a better son than you are a father. And I think you need to think about that.'

'You will excuse me for not taking child-raising advice from an unmarried man who treats children like animals.' Curufinwë scowls, but the worst edge of his unhappy rage is gone. He takes his hands off Tyelpë's ears and the boy giggles, thinking it a game of some sort.

They all sit on the floor in silence for a moment, Tyelkormo and Curufinwë tense, Tyelperinquar oblivious and happy to be sitting in his father's lap when for once he doesn't seem to be in a hurry.

Curufinwë is the one to break the silence. He admits quietly, looking down at his son to avoid meeting his brother's eyes, 'Netyarë has also been saying… what you said. So I probably should reprioritise. Father and I are in the middle of an important project, but it's not this important. Not more important than Tyelpë. Netyarë said that, too.'

'Yes, your wife is right', says Tyelkormo, surprised that his proud little brother would admit to doing something wrong. But then again, since Curvo became a father Tyelko has seen many new sides of him. 'Tyelpë will be little longer than the puppies, but still not very long. You should be present in his childhood while it lasts.'

Tyelperinquar looks curiously at his father and uncle, aware now that they are speaking about him. 'It's broken inside', he says, showing the jewel he's been examining to his father.

'Yes, Tyelpë, it's cracked. I meant to throw it away but forgot.'

'Can I keep it?'

'It is cracked', Curufinwë repeats. 'And you have many perfect ones.'

'Exactly', Tyelpë says like it makes everything clear. 'I don't have any ones with a crack inside yet, only unbroken ones.'

Tyelkormo grins. 'Can't fault his logic, brother.'

Curufinwë smiles too, tension flowing away from him like a wide river. 'No. No, Tyelpë, you can keep it, I said no to uncle Tyelko.'

'Good. I'll add it to my collection.' Tyelperinquar would run off to his bedroom, but Curufinwë catches him and lifts him onto his shoulders.

'It's to the bath with you, pond-swimmer', he says.

'But mama's not home yet.'

'I'll give you your bath today.' Tyelpë's whoop of delight makes Curufinwë smile again. 'We'll just say goodbye to uncle Tyelko and his hounds first.'

Tyelkormo whistles, and on the other side of the room Huan lifts his muzzle from his paws, gets up and shepherds a litter of sleepy puppies to his master.

Tyelperinquar waves a happy goodbye to the hounds, but Curufinwë says drily to his brother, 'The next time you come visiting, don't bring your horde of half-grown hunting dogs.'

'I won't. But Huan is still allowed to come, isn't he?'

'He knows how to behave with children, so yes, he is allowed. In fact, he is probably a better childminder than you. Perhaps I should give all the instructions to him the next time Tyelpë needs watching, whenever that is.'

'Hah', says Tyelkormo with a wince. 'Happy bathtime, Tyelpë.'

'Bye-bye uncle Tyelko.' Tyelperinquar waves at him from his father's shoulders, and they head to the bathroom.

Tyelkormo can hear Tyelperinquar's happy chatter to his father almost all the way to the front door, and it makes him smile to himself. His brother isn't a bad father, just a thoughtless one sometimes.

Tyelkormo counts the puppies to make sure that none of them have wandered away, then lets himself and his canine companions out of the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't mean to write a story about little Tyelpë originally, but then the lines 'I told you not to treat him like a puppy' and 'You treated him with horse liniment?!' arrived unbidden in my head and I just had to capture them and build a story around them. This happens to me quite a lot, to be honest.


	2. Maternal worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I kept thinking about how it would go when Curufin's wife Netyarë came home in the evening and found out about Tyelpë's adventures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like the original fic, this new chapter is a little family scene that is a mix of fluff, light humour and very slight angst in the form of adjusting to parenthood. There is less Tyelko and more Netyarë though, so the chapter is titled ‘Maternal worries’ (aren’t I clever? no, I’m not). Thanks to NelyafinweFeanorion for looking this over.
> 
> If you haven’t yet seen RowanBaines‘ cute&funny comic about the first chapter, [check it out](http://acommonanomaly.tumblr.com/post/160240073933/from-elesiannes-story-ponds-puppies-and%22%22)!

Netyarë arrives home a little later than usual, just in time for dinner. She makes her way straight to the dining room, the bright sound of Tyelperinquar's voice that she hears already in the hallway bringing a smile to her face.

She loves her art deeply, which is why she hasn't given it up even during these early years of her son's life, but she loves Tyelpë more. The moment of coming home to him is the best part of her day: seeing the delight on his face always makes her heart constrict in overflowing joy tinged with a little pain.

 _Next week_ , she reminds herself. _Next week I'll be staying at home with him again while Curufinwë goes out to work_. Their system of alternating weeks taking care of Tyelperinquar works well for the most part.

'Mama!' Tyelpë shouts joyfully when she steps into the room. He would jump down from his chair if his father didn't stop him.

Netyarë drops a kiss on her husband's cheek and another on Tyelpë's and takes a seat on her son's other side.

'How was your day, Tyelpë darling? I see you've had a bath already.' Netyarë's gaze takes in Tyelpë's damp hair and clean clothes as well as Curufinwë's dishevelled appearance.

Her usually very neat husband's hair is a mess and his tunic seems damp in places, as do the rolled-up long sleeves of his undershirt. She doesn't wonder about his appearance for long, though, for she'd also noticed that Tyelpë doesn't seem quite all right. There are small cuts on his face, one of them bandaged, and a small bruise on the side of his jaw.

Before she can ask Curufinwë about the injuries, Tyelpë answers her question with effusiveness that reassures her that his high spirits, at least, are undamaged. 'I took _two_ baths today!' he announces proudly.

'Did you, sweetheart? Come here, sit in my lap for a while.' Netyarë's tone is light, but she is very careful when she lifts Tyelpë to her lap and goes over every graze and cut on her son.

Curufinwë wants to tell her that there's no need, that both he and Tyelkormo have already tended to Tyelpë, but this much he has learnt of parenthood: it is no use telling a mother not to worry for her child. She will only get angry with the father and sleep with her back turned to him.

Keeping his voice suitably nonchalant, he explains, 'The first bath was a mud bath in the garden pond. He scraped himself on the rocks in the bottom.'

Netyarë raises her brows as she deposits Tyelpë back in his own chair and encourages him to get back to eating his carrots. She strokes his hair softly and asks her husband quietly, 'How did he get in the pond? He's been very good so far about keeping away from there as we've told him to.'

Curufinwë bites his lip and admits, 'He was playing with Tyelko's puppies and ended up losing his balance when the playing got rough.'

'I see', Netyarë says, and Curufinwë is afraid that she does. 'Tyelkormo came for a visit, then. You know I don't mind that, Tyelpë enjoys his company and he loves playing with Tyelko's animals, but proper supervision is needed. Your brother isn't always very careful –'

'I know', says Curufinwë, gritting his teeth.

'– though I do appreciate that he gives his time and attention to our son. He's a good uncle in many ways.' Netyarë adds peas to Tyelpë's plate and directs him to eat them with a spoon rather than try to spear them with a fork and send them flying in all directions. Almost casually she asks, 'Where was Tyelpë's father when he fell into the pond?'

'Grandpapa's forge!' pipes up Tyelpë, startling his parents and reminding them that he is getting too old for them to have conversations over his head. 'He had to go to help grandpapa so uncle Tyelko and Huan and the puppies played with me in the garden. I got to ride Huan!'

'That must have been exciting', replies his mother gently while aiming an anything-but-gentle look at her husband.

Tyelpë explains all about his wonderful afternoon with his uncle and his hounds while his mother keeps shooting his father looks as dirty as the ones Curufinwë gave his brother after coming home and finding Tyelpë injured and smelling of horse liniment. Curufinwë hadn't expected anything less from her.

As soon as Tyelpë stops chattering to draw breath, Netyarë says to Curufinwë in a low voice, 'We need to discuss you leaving him alone at home during a week when it's your turn to take care –'

Curufinwë interrupts her, something they both knew he would do. 'He wasn't alone, Tyelko was here.'

Netyarë strokes Tyelpë's cheek tenderly, her fingers carefully avoiding the bandage there. Without thinking about it Curufinwë finds himself saying he's sorry and then realises that he doesn't regret it, though apologies always taste foul on his tongue. It is both true and the most useful thing he could say to placate his wife.

'I thought about it, after I came home and found him – found that Tyelpë had fallen into the pond, and I've decided to make fewer visits to the forge while it's my week home. I don't want us to have to reconsider our decision to not have a nurse for Tyelpë. I still want us to raise him ourselves.'

Netyarë studies her husband for a moment and, finding no pretence in his eyes, leans back in her chair in relief. 'I am glad to hear that.'

Tyelpë is staring up at them, brows furrowed. 'What are you glad about, mama?'

'That I am here, at home with you and papa.' She drops another kiss on Tyelpë's head and finally picks up her own knife and fork to begin eating.

'Did you not have as good a day as I did, then?'

'Probably not, Tyelpë dear. I had to deal with irritating people, and you only had to play with puppies.'

'What did lord Cammíron do today? More helpful suggestions?' Curufinwë knows of the infuriating habits of Netyarë's current client.

'Oh yes, he had many to make, several of them on parts of the painting I had already finished. It is truly remarkable that even after commissioning me several times, the man still doesn't understand that once a fresco has dried, it's final. I refuse to make any late changes by a different method.'

'You need to tell that idiot that you won't do any more paintings for him after this one.'

'I will avoid his commissions if I can. Tyelperinquar, don't fuss with your cup, just ask for more milk if you want it.' She fills his cup and continues, 'I'm relieved this week will be over soon. Tyelpë is much better company than a client who hovers while I paint and still doesn't make his suggestions in time.'

Tyelpë flashes a wide smile, warm and enchanting, much like his uncle Maitimo's smiles, or his mother's if his father is to be believed. 'I _am_ very good company.'

He is a little bewildered when both his parents laugh at his words, but he laughs along with them and then asks, 'What are we going to do next week, mama? Can we paint together again?'

'Of course we can', Netyarë promises, delighted that at least for now, Tyelpë is an eager student to her, even though he is so young that painting tends to be very messy. From all the interest he has shown towards his father's craft she has a feeling that once Curufinwë judges Tyelpë old enough that it is safe to take him along to the forge, it will be very difficult to get him out of there again.

'Can we paint puppies on my wall?' Tyelpë's voice returns her to the present from thoughts of the future.

'Are you bored of the bunny rabbits, then?' Curufinwë teases Tyelpë, and Netyarë too, for he had told her  that subject matter was too whimsical even for a child's bedroom. He hadn't really tried to stop her painting the rabbits though, unusually gentle as he was during her pregnancy.

Tyelpë scrunches up his nose as if he was a bunny rabbit himself. 'The rabbits are nice, but puppies are nicer. Even when they lick my face and it tickles.'

'I can paint puppies on your wall, alongside the rabbits perhaps. We'll make plans for it together next week, sketches and watercolours. Do promise me though, darling boy, that you won't splash with the watercolours as much as you splashed tonight in the bath.'  Netyarë throws a teasing look at her husband whose shirt is still damp.

'But there were whales in the tub', says Tyelpë very solemnly, and Netyarë purses her lips, trying not to laugh at his remarkable imagination.

She knows that there is a serious conversation she and Curufinwë need to have later tonight – in spite of his already having promised to make fewer impromptu visits to his father during his childcare weeks, she still wants to make sure that he is committed to taking care of Tyelpë.

Yet it is difficult to worry about that now, seated next to her happy son and smiling husband. In spite of small grievances she feels blessed by all the powers, blessed with both family and work that she loves.

Tiredness and happiness combine into a quiet relaxation while she eats her dinner, lets her husband pour her wine and promises Tyelpë that she'll include Huan in the fresco, too.

'Good!' Tyelpë beams. 'Because he looked after the puppies today as well as uncle Tyelko looked after me.'

'Better, I think, since none of them ended up in our pond', Curufinwë mutters under his breath, and then chokes on his food when Tyelpë asks, 'Can I have a puppy?'

Netyarë pounds on her husband's back and smiles at her son.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments make me smile even wider than little Tyelpë. I'm also on [Tumblr](http://elesianne.tumblr.com).


End file.
